


A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

by XanderTai



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff, I go off on weird tangents when I write sorry, Rating may go up, Readers kind of a dumbass but it’s for love so..., Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, no beta we die like men, possible smut down the road we’ll see, reader has had enough of Jason’s bs and is gonna tear apart the city to find them, takes place during Arkham Knight and maybe after if what I have planned out in my head works out, yes the title is a patd reference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XanderTai/pseuds/XanderTai
Summary: Soulmates au: finding your soulmate is like playing a game of hot and cold. Meaning the farther you are from them the colder you become and vice versa.You were home when scarecrow made his announcement warning the citizens of your city to escape while they had the chance. You packed your duffle bag with a few changes of clothes, your valuables and started to head for the bus terminal but as you did a cool breeze began to pick up, you stopped on the sidewalk immediately ‘don’t tell me this ass hat is actually gonna stay in the city.’





	A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

You could feel the individual beads of sweat gently sliding down your spine and pooling at the small of your back. Your cheeks were flushed and your hands were so clammy you had a difficult time keeping a solid grip on your iced coffee without it slipping out of your hand. As you walked down the street people gave you odd glances, some looked at you like you were crazy for walking around in a t-shirt and jeans in this weather. Others looked at you with pitiful smiles that always said “it’ll happen soon” without ever speaking. Growing up you had heard that nearing your soulmate was like a warm summer day, the sensation of the sun on your skin that became more intense the closer you got to your soulmate. That may be true for the people for most people, those lucky few who found each other after a week or two of being in proximity of one another, but as someone who constantly looked like they had just ran a marathon, you had to call bs. It all started when you moved to Gotham. When the time came for you to pick which university you wanted to go to you decided to move as far away from home as possible. You felt cold and distant there and not just because of the distance between you and your soulmate. Thus how you ended up in Gotham. For five years you dealt with the subtle rising temperature. When you lived on campus it felt like a breezy spring day, but as you graduated and moved deeper into the city the worse it got. When you moved into one of the crumbling buildings in Drescher for the cheap rent you signed your death sentence. There are times when you were walking down the street feeling like your skin is on fire only to look around and see poker faces. It was driving you insane, they were so close that the air around you felt humid in late October and yet you still hadn’t met them. You were home when scarecrow made his announcement warning the citizens of your city to escape while they had the chance. You packed your duffle bag with a few changes of clothes, your valuables and started to head for the bus terminal but as you did a cool breeze began to pick up, you stopped on the sidewalk immediately ‘don’t tell me this ass hat is actually gonna stay in the city.’ 

Three hours later and several locks picking tutorials after you stood in your neighbour's apartment triumphant. You recalled his love for sports and overall dude bro attitude from some unremarkable small talk made while waiting for the elevator and If you were going to survive this city long enough to find your cryptid of a soulmate, you were gonna need some protection. The living room had jerseys on the walls and bobbleheads of players adorning any free space of furniture. Grimacing at the decorations you made your way down the hall passing the posters of sports teams that meant virtually nothing to you lining your path to the bedrooms. All you found in the first bedroom was a signed baseball bat, a dinged up helmet, and a stack of old trading cards, feeling the tiniest bit of guilt you shoved the baseball bat and helmet into your now empty duffel and moved on to the next room. As soon as you opened the door the feeling of intense confusion hit you in the face, whatever preconceived notions you had about the dude bro who had been shattered. The walls of the room were a shade that could only be described as Barbie pink, wigs were intricately styled laid atop of mannequin heads with blank stares on top of white shelves. The wardrobe, filled with sparkly gowns, corsets, and over the top boas, too large to be contained to just the closet were also on three other clothing racks in the corner of the room. Beside them a sewing table had a piece of glittering red fabric, you wondered if he was working on whatever this garment was going to be when he heard the broadcast. Feeling the guilt of such an invasion of privacy paired with just how little you actually paid attention to your neighbours lives you decided to move on. Now armed with a baseball bat and football helmet you took your leave and headed down the hall for the apartment of the Vietnam vet who took the second amendment a little too close to heart. As you picked his lock you gave a silent prayer that he was exactly what you had judged him as and wasn’t another closeted drag queen, you weren’t sure the thugs roaming the streets would find a cotton candy coloured wig and six-inch heels intimidating. You sighed a breath of relief when you opened the door to find a bucks head hung on the wall beside a faded old lawn sign which said vote Regan on in. ‘Good to know I’m right about some things’ deciding to ignore the dead animals and politically charged decor you set your eyes on the hunting rifle hung above the tv. Not wanting to spend more time near the judgemental dead eyes of the animals on the wall, and not seeing any other weapons in the vicinity, you strapped the gun to your back and went back home. After disinfecting the helmet, googling how to take the safety off a gun, and making a frozen pizza for dinner, you were ready. The plan was to walk around the city with a thermometer and take your temperature in every neighbourhood until you found the asshole responsible for the permanent sweat stains on your clothes. It was gonna be a long night.


End file.
